


Jorah Mormont, BDE

by clarasimone



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cunnilingus, Erotica, F/M, Humor, Mirror Sex, New Year's Eve, Older Man/Younger Woman, Oral Sex, Passion, Plot What Plot, erotic fluff, sexy talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:22:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21872890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarasimone/pseuds/clarasimone
Summary: It's New Year's Eve and... Oh honey, the title says it all!
Relationships: Jorah Mormont/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 19
Kudos: 44
Collections: A song of frosted bear kisses and dragon roasted chestnuts, Jorah and Daenerys' Garden of Erotic Delights





	Jorah Mormont, BDE

**Author's Note:**

> Your Holiday table is all set and the party favors are awaiting. So, send the kids out to play with their cousins, tell your significant other to shovel the entry cause your guests will arrive soon, and take a break! This is my New Year's Eve blast-off and wink to all thirsting ladies in our fandom! I hope you enjoy this final bonbon in "A Song of Frosted Bear Kisses and Dragon Roasted Chestnuts", our Sanziene moderated collection!
> 
> This Jorleesi modern AU offering is set inside @Houseofthebear's "Blurring the Lines" universe. Jorah and Dany are happily married CEOs and are passionately in love with each other. So thanks for the inspiration, dear comrade in arms. And my special special thanks to @chryssadirewolf for the ever-awesome moodboards !
> 
> Oh, and you've been forewarned: this is what happens to fluff when, spurred on by a naughty dragon, the big bad bear gets a hold of it!

****

**JORAH MORMONT, BDE**

“Look at the way he stands. What is that?... Surely, he knows what it does to us. Right?”

“I call it THE STANCE.”

“God, I’d climb him like a tree.”

“You and me both, honey."

“Do you think he’d go for it? A _ménage-à-trois_?”

“Ladies, this is a _charity function_. Behave!”

“Oh please, do shut up and let us drool…Frankly, I wish he’d just auctioned himself off, I truly do. He’s a great orator…”

“Oh, I bet he is…”

“…but I’d pay even more money for a taste of him.”

“You do know he’s married, right?”

“Yeah…lucky gal. I wonder if she’s here.”

Oh! Daenerys was there alright. Just in front of these thirsty ladies, sitting in the dress circle of the Gielgud Theatre all decked out for New Year’s Eve. And she was trying very hard not to laugh. All at once shocked and entertained, she was itching to turn around and have a look at this unusual Greek chorus, but she was too enraptured, and turned on herself, by Jorah’s performance. He did this yearly, host the London Business Club Charity Gala, and he was wowing everyone with his charismatic presentation. As usual. His college drama classes were clearly paying off. And he was putting his spiffy blue suit to _very_ good use! Dany was so glad she had bought it for him in Paris. It hugged his frame perfectly. In fact, it looked like it was sewn on him; and Jorah made her swoon when he’d put his hand in…

“Oh God, he just put his hand in his pocket. Kill me now.”

“Jorah Mormont, BDE.”

 _That_ almost made Daenerys laugh out loud, and she had to press her hand to her mouth. For a second, she imagined his business cards with that very title embossed on them. Yet, her raunchy neighbors were so right! _Jorah Mormont._ The hairplay, the brief cocky smiles, the sudden lowering of his voice to communicate with gravitas… And the way his slightly unbuttoned white shirt tugged on the tight core of his abdomen when he’d stretch his arms outward, embracing the space before him with such command and assurance, and then putting his hands on his hips for a second, before massaging briefly one of his thighs, right next to his crotch, _stancing_. Yes, maybe the Greek chorus was right after all. Maybe Jorah knew exactly what he was doing. Daenerys bit her lip at the thought.

Her sweet Jorah was a strong man; a ferocious business negotiator; and, in the bedroom, Dany could sometimes coax the bear out of him, but did he have it in him to be truly naughty? _Jorah Mormont, BDE_. Yes, just look at him with a touch of the peacock in his demeanor, burning that stage. It actually made her sex clench now. The very notion of it. Being at the receiving end of all that wonderful unleashed sexual energy. She had never really perceived the feral predator in Jorah, he was too much the gentleman, forever her protective Knight, but he did exude it right now. And she felt the rush of some primeval arousal come moisten her lingerie. So much so, she had to shift in her seat to calm the sudden swelling of her sex. It made her feel naughty and very sexy. Oh! She was _soooo_ going to jump his bones after the gala! The thought made her gasp, softly, and she blushed at the words her lustful mind just conjured up.

****

Jorah was smiling, sipping his champagne and cocking his head to a young intern to better hear her question, when he saw Daenerys appear at the far end of the corridor. In fact, he did a double-take seeing her, as she simply paused there in her billowing full-length dress while everyone was either coming or going, getting tangled in the New Year’s Eve streamers amidst the joyous _brouhaha_ of the gala. Jorah forgot about his young colleague’s question. In fact, he forgot her very presence because, quite frankly, his ravishing wife looked like an apparition. The girl next to him drifted away, someone else calling her to party, and so Jorah was left blissfully alone to gauge what his love was up to. She cut an intriguing figure, backlit by the lights glaring from the stage transformed into a dance floor. He admired the arresting silhouette but couldn’t see Daenerys’ face until she shifted on one leg, one of her hands grabbing a rail for support as she bent gracefully to fix the strap of one of her high heel shoes, her lowered figure revealing the swell of her slightly pushed up breasts to his eyes. Then, as she raised her glance to him, the light revealed the glint in her violet irises. Catching him peeping down her dress, Dany smiled at the bear having fallen into her trap and, cupping her breast, she smoothed her tight bustier as she straightened up. Seeing Daenerys wet her lips, celebrating her victory, Jorah was done for. He knew that look. Even from afar, that look was calling him, claiming him, and he swallowed hard, with the tiniest of smiles, his nostrils flaring. He shifted then, firmly planting his two feet on the ground, preparing for her. And he slid the portfolio that held his notes in front of him. He had to because in a second his slacks were not going to hide the hardness stirring there. Daenerys had that power. She had always had that power over him.

Seeing the stance from afar, Daenerys reacted. Like a dangerously stealth cat, she resumed her sashaying towards her tall handsome husband, her hips swaying to the loud music blaring behind her, and she felt a thrill seeing Jorah’s smile get warmer _and_ cockier as the distance between them diminished. The wings were still crowded but they only saw each other. When Dany got to Jorah’s side, she stopped _real_ close, smiling into his mischievous eyes. Without a word, she took the glass of champagne from his hand, finished it straight and then lifting herself to his ear, she made sure he heard her purring whisper above the din:

“You gorgeous thespian, you made me come and I’m still wet for you. I need your beautiful cock. Now.”

****

Jorah thankfully had the presence of mind to jam a chair up the handle of his dressing room door, in effect shutting out the party, before sweeping Daenerys up in his arms again, and devouring her with a passionate kiss. He was still euphoric from his presentation up on stage and there was nothing he could deny his love when the dragon in her provoked him so. Their kiss had begun in the theater wings and now the unleashing was unstoppable. Lifting her to him, crushing her in his arms, Jorah lost his sense of gravity until he felt his body and hers collide with the impressive vanity propped up against the far wall. His private boudoir was in keeping with the rest of the Gielgud Theatre: chic, grand, Victorian, and the vanity he lifted his moaning beauty unto was made of blond wood and nacre, with old-fashioned light bulbs softly lighting them round the mirrors reflecting their bodies back. If they cared to look. But they were still kissing madly, Daenerys grinding herself on Jorah through the layers of tulle and silk of her gala dress. That is, until she came up for air, pushing back her gorgeous husband with both hands on his blue suit. He looked dejected for a second and made to pounce on her once more, but she applied more pressure on his chest, heaving sexily.

“Let me touch it. I know you’re hard for me.”

Not waiting for Jorah’s permission, and still keeping him at bay, feeling the sheer force of his body through the arm she was pressing unto his crisp shirt, Daenerys let her other hand seize her bear’s virility. He _was_ hard. Very. In fact, he was fully erect under his slacks which were now way too tight for him. She smiled into Jorah’s eyes, and he in hers, lustful joyous panting accompanying his thrusting into her hand, welcoming her digits caressing the full length of him, almost in synch with the music reaching them from afar. He rolled his hips once, a deep rumble escaping his throat, never breaking eye contact with Daenerys, except to glide over her parted lips before smiling into her eyes again, breathing in the pleasure pulsating in his manhood, and not hiding it from his love, making her purr all the more for it.

“Oh Gods,” she moaned, “I love it. I love how thick you feel.”

Spurred on by Daenerys immodest whispers, Jorah pushed on her extended arm with his frame, until he was able to steal a ferocious kiss on her neck, smelling her intoxicating perfume, while parting roughly with his jacket, pushing his crotch even more into her caress and finally rasping something in her ear.

“Feel that?”

“Jorah…”

“That’s nothing, luv. You know I can get harder. And you know what I need for that. You do.”

Jorah was dizzying Daenerys with his proximity, his hardness, his words, so _risqué_ for him but so in line with his stage persona, and then his hands, all over her, the barrier of her arm a forgotten illusion. She felt the warmth of Jorah’s two elegant hands lifting her bottom from underneath her crimson crinoline to better rob her of her panties while his mouth once more claimed hers, his tongue demanding she tango with his. Moaning, she let him prepare her on the lit altar, making her body feel like some luscious sacrifice, until he went down on her, pushing her legs apart, to perform the ritual he so relished. _This_ she knew!

Jorah’s hungry growl echoed Dany’s immediate gasp of pleasure when she felt his tongue take a long swipe at her exposed sex, already ripe and dripping with honey. Another growl told her how much her bear regaled himself on what he could taste there, the sound closely followed by that of a zipper being unceremoniously ripped open. Jorah pulled back then, his lips and gruff glistening with Daenerys’ arousal. Looking up devilishly into her flushed face, he had to show her his sigh of relief at freeing the beast between his legs, making Daenerys whisper his name because of what she could imagine waiting for her. Jorah savored the moment and then unbuttoned his shirt, waiting for his love’s little whimper of sexy frustration. It came, as if on cue, and it made him chuckle softly, a naughty velvety rumble vibrating out of his chest. He felt a rush of blood course through his cock, knowing just how much he was going to make Dany moan. And she did, as soon as his lips, gruff and tongue resumed their expert caress, teasing the depth of her before flicking hard on her pearl because he knew just what she needed.

“Gods, yes, Jorah!”

Daenerys slipped her hands in Jorah’s ginger curls, at the back of his neck, to keep him close to her and, just as she began to squeeze her thighs to him, a tightening that always accompanied the pleasure coiling rapidly within her, Jorah pulled back again and simply panted: “No. Not this time.”

Surprised, aching with desire, Daenerys peered into her golden bear’s handsome face and her breath caught when she saw his rakish smile before feeling his hands push her thighs much farther apart, exposing her mound like never before.

“You’re mine, luv. And I want you. Like this.”

Those were the last words Daenerys heard before feeling impossibly devoured, her body jolting towards Jorah’s lips, her mind relinquishing, letting go, cresting at the very thought of being so immodestly exposed. Her hips were rocking against the strength of her Knight’s palms, on the bass beat of the music snaking its way to them, and she whimpered loudly when her honey almost squirted into his greedy mouth as she came there, violently.

To say that pleasure blinded her was a euphemism: the pulsating of her sex refused to subside. As she felt Jorah leave her folds to kneel before her, one knee on the ottoman facing the vanity, she could only moan his departure. But, Gods, the vision of him, kneeling before her like that, his priapic cock emerging from his blue slacks, reaching up like a long sword between the open folds of his white shirt, all nine inches of him pressed against his tight abdomen while he swiped his thumb on his lips to lick the slickness of her…it, it made her crest anew.

Her hands grabbed the edges of the vanity, her knuckles turning white as incoherent words left her mouth to call her husband to her. Jorah, in turn, took a second more to admire the arresting beauty of her regal wantonness, his hands brushing his hair back, then slipping to his cock. He felt it pulsate in his fist and, before he could stop himself, his thumb swirled the moistness seeping out of him unto his crown, slowly, purposefully, calling Daenerys’ eyes to him. She moaned looking at his hand slide down his shaft, then up again; and pleasure shot up her spine.

Gods, was she going to ache and come like this all night?

Seeing Daenerys in the throes of absolute wantonness made Jorah Adam’s apple bob in his throat. He growled, looking at her, his eyes falling on the pulsating treasure between her alabaster thighs, so luminous inside the _froufrou_ of her billowing crimson dress. She whimpered, seeing his nostrils flare, his hand still caressing that gorgeous cock of his, his eyes captivating hers while taking in the glistening flower of her sex, her breasts heaving from the constricting bustier, and her beautiful features transfigured by ecstasy. To Jorah, Daenerys looked like a Queen sitting on a decadent throne, waiting for her Knight, waiting for _him_ , to come deliver her flesh from dolorous want. And his powerful cock wanted nothing more. He let go of his shaft, a feral rumble leaving his lungs when Daenerys' whimpers made his manhood twitch and thud against him, like a beast fully alive. Gods, she was driving him crazy!

“Luv, you should see how beautiful you are…”

“Come to me…”

She felt him collide with her before she saw him, before she could stop the repeating of her pleas.

“Jorah, please, now…”

It was known that, between them, Daenerys was the erotic tormentor. Jorah was never one to deny the Queen of his heart for very long, but Gods, how it excited him to see her want him so, and ask for him, desperately. He had never told her but now the words were escaping his lips in a fiery whisper as he was lifting her to him, wrapping her legs around him, his mouth next to her ear, his voice a deep rich chocolate.

“I love it so when you beg!”

Jorah’s confession made Daenerys moan with lust and again when she felt her Knight lift her left leg until her high heeled foot got to rest on his right shoulder. They never made love this way and she gasped, surrendering willingly to Jorah’s audacity, locking eyes with him, her sex pulsating, waiting…until she felt it, the full warmth and breadth and length of him invading her _petite_ form, the pleasure blinding her once more.

Jorah’s thrusting was gloriously possessive and velvety, like his voice whispering his desire and love, the position making Daenerys feel like never before the sheer strength and size of his manhood. She wanted him to know, she wanted to scream it, but only his name was breathily escaping her lips. She didn’t have the strength for anything else, lost to sensory bliss. She loved being taken in this naughty, naughty way. Her hands were still grasping the borders of the vanity, for support, but Jorah was making her sway, one of his arms around her waist pulling her into his thrusts, while his lips were now feverishly kissing her ankle and the side of her leg. How delicious the contrast between Jorah’s imperious claiming to the beat of the music, and the delicacy of his hand caressing the sheer silk stocking covering her skin. His fingers trailed down from her foot to her thigh, toying with the lacy band and beyond, to the naked skin near her silver curls and the swell of her cheek, which he squeezed to better bring her to him.

Daenerys’ heart was pounding hard now, she could swear it was pushing her bosom up, making her gasp for air. As if reading her mind, Jorah loosened the top of her silk bodice with one swift tug, just enough for the tips of her pesky breasts to jolt free, the nipples hardening as Dany arched her back, her head coming to rest on the mirror rattling behind her. And she moaned again feeling Jorah’s tongue lashing at her rosy peaks, the wetness echoing that of her sex embracing his cock, kissing it, tightening around it, telling it to make her come again. Surely Jorah was reading her mind because, as if on cue, he secured his grip on her and began to thrust more deeply, the crown of his cock ramming lovingly against the farthest reaches of her, electrifying her loins, his pelvis kissing her pearl, wishing it, commanding it to surrender to him.

“Jorah? I…”

“Show me, luv. Show me how good this feels...”

And she did. She did show him, cresting for him, her throat rasping an elongated sinful word, making Jorah growl his acquiescence. It felt so good letting go, wishing Jorah to take command and seeing him excelling at this role. Hearing him tell her how good she felt, how tight and wet, and how he wanted her _just. like. that_. Feeling her close, Jorah's voice in her ear became even more feral.

“That’s it. Give it to me.” And then, deeper, “Give in to me...” 

Yielding, she came. Hard. On his cock. And with every one of his commands, until she whimpered. Until she felt herself shake and her leg being gracefully lowered, Jorah’s arms and hands pulling her to him, his hunger growing, the desire to spill himself burning his loins. He wanted to bring Daenerys down softly from her orgasm, but his hips had a mind of their own. Which his love moaned over deliciously, jolts of pleasure still seizing her. Jorah smiled rakishly sensing Dany closing in on him like this. He made her wrap her legs around his rolling hips again, his mouth capturing hers, telling her of his love. His desire. His hunger.

Tasting him anew, feeling the gruff of his short beard brushing against her tender skin, Daenerys found herself alighting again, and the one turning tables on her formidable husband, to crest once more, like some insatiable force of nature. Like the dragon she truly was. Sensing it, Jorah's breath caught in his throat.

“Seven hells, luv…” He had to grind his teeth, amazed at the erotic force emanating from Daenerys and challenging him. His hand went to grab her gracile neck to better gaze at her wanton beauty and he did meet her thirst, penetrating her more rapidly to the changing beat of the music. Making her whimper. And making him ache for her even more. Dany was peering back too, getting slicker just seeing the muscles of Jorah’s jaw tightening, forbidden words wanting to escape his lips, and his cock getting impossibly harder.

 _That’s it, show me the bear now._ Dany’s lustful mind was imploding: _Let the bear ravish me; let him take me to the ends of pleasure. Jorah…_

“Do me.”

Daenerys didn’t have to repeat it, didn’t have to explain it, didn’t have to ask forgiveness for it. In another place, another time, her command would have been _Dracarys_ with the same result: it transformed Jorah into a fiery beast. His expression turned dangerously predatory as he kissed her one more time, devouring her, and then she felt herself turn in his arms until her hands came to rest again on the vanity, her back arching to her bear, her buttocks pushing up against him until she felt the ram, Jorah’s cock reaching so deep in the wetness of her, it made her shake all over. His thrusts were so good then, an obscene sound left her throat, while her eyes locked with her ravishing love through the mirror. How gorgeous he looked taking her like this, shrouded in darkness but for the golden light stemming from the vanity and hitting his upper body. He was her mythical beast, a powerful faun, a minotaur, his golden-haired chest and strong stomach covered in a sheen of sweat between the flaps of his white shirt, his blue slacks still clinging to his hips. How absolutely breathtaking he looked to her, his features caught between ecstasy and suffering, as if unprepared for the pleasure hardening his cock.

Jorah looked down at their joining then, his expression one of unequivocal possessiveness, as he gazed at Daenerys’ beautiful heart-shaped rump, ensconced inside her billowing red skirt, the irresistible Venus dimples he caressed with the tip of his fingers before grabbing her hips again, claiming her, ravishing her. It made him groan, it made him say she was his. Looking at him looking at them, Daenerys’ sex clenched and her back arched even more, like a cat’s, bringing Jorah’s glance back to hers through the mirror, and making him growl deeply on each graceful thrust. This is exactly what she fantasized about, admiring him up on that stage, the shameless thought searing her mind and making her smile wantonly at Jorah. Provoking him. He answered in turn, cockily, his fingers digging deeper into the flesh of her hips…

“You love this…”

He knew she did, but he also knew she’d love hearing him tell her.

Daenerys acquiesced then with a sultry _yesssssss_ , and a smile, her eyes half-closed, her head thrown back…It made Jorah take her more vigorously, almost losing control, but for one of his hands come to capture her pearl, to lavish it with the caresses needed for its final release.

Dany was moaning now, long and loud, and without care, because no one was going to hear her above the blare of the New Year bash. She closed her eyes on Jorah’s raspy whispers. His voice was a panting caress, every short sentence separated by one glorious thrust as he felt her coming undone: “Yes. Like that. Let me feel it. Again.” Daenerys was climaxing once more on Jorah’s words and deep penetration, and he was relishing it, looking like a conqueror in the mirror. He felt his cock begin to pulse then, just as the countdown to midnight reached them, and he willed it to stop, breathing in, keeping his release at bay, but not his cresting and not his ramming. Oh no, not that. He didn’t want this to end, gazing at Daenerys' enraptured face, prolonging the guilty pleasure of feeling himself possess her so, though his Queen was the one empowering him to take her like this; looking at him, wetting her lips, daring him. He couldn't swallow anymore, knowing just how _good_ this was going to feel in a few seconds, when he'd let go. When he'd come, deep, so deep inside of her. His eyes lowered then, to steal one last glance at his thrusting, the thickness and length of him impossibly spearing his love, making her moan like never before... and gift him with that luscious, luscious cream on his cock!

 _That_ sealed his fate, the pleasure coiling up, like rapid fire. He felt it then, the surrender to pure lust, to pleasure, to possession. “Come here,” _your bear needs you…_

Her hands still on the vanity, Daenerys felt herself being lifted from the ground, Jorah’s hand cupping her pulsating mound. Locking eyes with her through the mirror, in a singular perfect moment of communion, he pulled her up and unto him, and took her without mercy, once, twice and…

 _Fuck_ , _Gods, yes, Daenerys!_

Pleasure seizing him, Jorah made his love cry out, as he came, his cock spilling itself, gloriously, on the final strike of midnight.

Dany couldn’t say how long it took her to stop moaning, feeling Jorah throbbing uncontrollably against her honeyed walls, and groaning, so sexily, on each release of his warm jets, and for such a long time… the sound of people cheering the New Year reaching them like a distant echo. She stopped shaking when she felt her husband’s arms close in around her, his warm breath on her neck, and his heart beating wildly against her back. He held her like this for a long moment, while the nostalgic air of Auld Lang Syne began to reach them. Then, slipping gently out of her, though his hardness endured passed satiation, Jorah turned Daenerys once more into his arms, his eyes diving into hers, his lips whispering half formed inquiries and words of love on her cheeks and lips. _Was she alright?_... _Kiss me… Stay… Let me…_ Never letting go of his love, Jorah reached for the warm washing cloth the staff left for him and he very gently applied it to Daenerys’ secret folds, making her sigh on his lips.

In synch with the old-fashioned tune floating towards them, Jorah slowly lowered both of them on the ottoman and made Dany straddle him, his flesh against hers underneath the layers of tulle, one arm cradling her tenderly, the other pampering her intimate flesh. Panting still, like his silver Queen, he kissed Daenerys again and again, as if drawing breath from her, drinking her own words of love. After a time, their heartbeats regulating, Jorah brushed wispy strands of hair from her beautiful face and smiled in wonderment into her eyes.

“Luv, what... _what_ was that?”

Daenerys laughed softly, resting her forehead on her adoring Knight’s, and then, cooing, she came to kiss his lips very delicately.

“Oh…That, my darling… _that,_ was Jorah Mormont, BDE.”

***

**Author's Note:**

> Darlings, if you happened to think you recognized mannerisms from other IG roles in my on-stage version of Jorah, you weren't dreaming. Jorah Mormont BDE is also my homage to all the many instances Iain Glen incarnated BDE ;-)
> 
> And thank you to @chrissadirewolf for the inspiration to use Dracarys!


End file.
